Yesterday was probably one of the grimmest of my life. I washed my pants and my hair at the same time. (Actually the pants had been in the sink with a load of soap power for an hour, but they were too soapy. Two birds, one stone and all that.)
Not my actual pants.
I know it sounds vile but I reckon it’s a lot more common than anyone would admit to. The washing machines cost £2.20, and £1 for the dryer. I’m not paying £3.20 to wash six pairs of pants; I could just go to Primark and by 20 new pairs if I wasn’t just so lazy.
Living in student accommodation makes you do things you thought you wouldn’t do, just because it’s so much easier, and because being here makes you incredibly lazy. Living in one room is depressing but it becomes your life. I eat all of my meals in here, I exercise in here, I do all of my work in here and now it turns out this is also where I do my washing.
I’ve tried blaming other people, with differing levels of success. I can’t eat in the kitchen because it’s skanky. There are bits of food everywhere (I really hope the people who live in my flat don’t read this!) and the sides are all sticky. The most important thing I own is my slippers, because I can’t go out there barefoot, it’s terrifying. It’s just as much my fault though. I don’t like tidying up. My rooms a bit of a mess and there are 3 bags of rubbish in the corner. You just sort of get used to it. There’s no one to make me tidy up and since I have no job or uni to go to I spend most of my time asleep. The mess sometimes enters my dreams but they’re easy to forget.
Not my actual bedroom (I'm scared of horses)
Another really shit thing is that nothing works. The Internet, the TV, the Hoover. Everything’s just sort of a less good version of itself. It’s enough to get by but it makes you dream of home, where everything knows its job and does it properly. Even my lights don’t work! When you live in halls there’s usually someone who’s in charge. They come round and fill in little forms about you: the walls are too dirty, the light doesn’t work, tidy your room. It’s all very degrading for a 21-year-old. After my last ‘inspection’ I left a note on the form promising me they’d be back in 48 hours to add a load of charges onto my crazy accommodation fees. It said “Daddy, if you want me to Hoover my room please buy me a vacuum cleaner”. No one ever came to fix my light. It was probably my own fault.
MY TOP TIPS FOR MAKING STUDENT LIVING A BIT LESS SHIT:
Buy slippers, wear them everywhere. You do not know what’s lurking on floors, they’re might be a bit of sick in the hallway or some beans on the kitchen floor. It’s best to have at least one layer between you and whatever’s out there.
Don’t shit on your own doorstep: I only like that phrase in this context, and I know people moving away going to play at uni are going to try have sex with everyone they meet. That’s fine but remember if you’re shagging someone in September you’re still going to be living with them in June. That makes for ten very uncomfortable months.
Go to every party and every outing (especially for the first few weeks). You might meet some brilliant amazing people who you want to be best mates with forever and ever; you might meet some proper twats. It’s best to suss out who’s who as soon as possible. Then you’ll know who’s fun and who isn’t. Who goes out, who stays in doing their boring work, it’s all very important.
If you live somewhere where nights out mean tube/bus trips before you can get anywhere keep a few empty bottles when you have a lovely drink of pop. Then you can fill them up with vodka and take them on the bus. You probably won’t understand the value of doing this until you have to actually do it but when everyone has their drink for the trip and you don’t you’ll feel sad.
Not my actual bottles
Get drunk, party, bring loads of pictures, don’t stop speaking to your friends from home and make friends with everyone new. Set off the fire extinguisher at least once but be prepared for the cleanup/charge. Drink loads of water and buy loads of pasta. You’ll never eat it but it’s nice for an emergency.
It’s loads of fun really; just don’t expect it to be that nice.